Devil in the Device

by Lora Beth Johnson

  She didn’t know why she was wasting time with Maret. Even if he knew something Griffin didn’t, even if he remembered something Rashmi no longer did, he wouldn’t tell her.

  But something nagged at her. Why would Maret say he knew something and not tell her? To try to stay alive? Surely he realized she wouldn’t actually kill him. And if he did know something, why was she convinced it was about her purpose? How would he know? And why did she even feel like she had one? Why would Griffin program Andra with a feeling that she was fated for something important, if she was merely a tool? Unless that nagging sense of destiny was another side effect of the illusion of her humanity.

  She was jolted back to herself by a knock at the door.

  “Andra, Andra, Andra, Andra, Andra, Andra, Andra,” Lilibet chanted on the other side.

  Andra commanded it to open, and Lilibet tumbled in.

  Sweat clung to her brow. “Soze, we have a bitsy problem. Dzeni and the little kiddun need to stay. Angels killed Cheska. Dzeni is full sad. And Cheska’s promised ’pens full bars bad magic sad. I ’pen sole bit sad, because I didn’t reck him full well. But still sad, because it ’pens sad when someone dies. Especialish if it’s because an angel pulled their heart out of their chest! And soze, full certz, Zhade told Gryf to bring them all here—the promised and Dzeni and the kiddun. But Dzeni doesn’t want to be here. She ’pens mad because Zhade let Lew-Eaden die, and I reck she ’pens also bit mad at you, even though it happened not your fault. You wanted Zhade to die instead, even though I reck you didn’t for true want Zhade to die, but I didn’t have time to explain all that to her, because she ’pens so angry and so sad—”

  “What?” Andra blinked, trying to catch up. She could process information fast, but not as fast as Lilibet talked, and besides the information needed to make logical sense. “Who pulled whose heart out of whose chest?”

  Lilibet shook her head, her long, dark hair falling over her shoulders. “Hold forward, Andra. An angel. Pulled Cheska’s heart. Out of his chest! And people happen sad and they’re here, because Zhade sent them!”

  Andra didn’t know who Cheska was, and she was about to argue that angels—’bots—couldn’t kill people, but maybe it was a metaphor. Some Eerensedian idiom Andra hadn’t learned yet. “Where are they?”

  “I’ll take you to them!” Lilibet chirped, then remembered she was supposed to be sad and put on a somber face.

  Andra followed her. She heard them before she saw them. Loud weeping and yelling echoed down the hall from the lobby.

  “I’m NOT staying here! You can’t hide me away mereish because I’m inconvenient!”

  “Sands, Dzeni, it’s not a prison. It’s to hold you safe!”

  That was Zhade’s voice. At least, Andra thought it was Zhade’s voice. Something about the tenor of it had changed, like he was spending too much time pretending to be his brother.

  “Mereish like you held Wead safe?”

  Andra pushed through the double doors into the lobby, and Zhade—who had been about to yell something back—froze when he saw her. He stood under the astronomical clock, something broken on his brother’s features. Before him, Dzeni was red-faced, wisps of hair tangling in the dirt and blood on her cheeks. A woman with brown skin and stark-white chin-length hair was weeping on the blue eco’tiled floor. Behind them, a bemused Xana was holding Dehgo, who was counting along with the ticking of the clock.

  But Andra only had eyes for Zhade. Even though he still looked like Maret—his face, his slimmer figure, his white-blond hair—Andra knew in some ways, he would always feel like home.

  Dzeni paused her tirade and turned to follow Zhade’s line of sight. The anger seemed to drain out of her, and she slumped down next to the weeping woman, running a soothing hand over her back.

  Zhade stepped away from Dzeni and her friend, skirting around the welcome desk toward Andra. Her stomach plummeted, even as she was warmed by Zhade’s nearness.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Firm, that is exactish what I’m wondering,” another voice echoed, and Andra turned to see Skilla marching out of the air’lock, eyes blazing, high ponytail swaying. “Is there something you want to explain, Bodhizhad?”

  Zhade sighed, shoulders slumping, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Hiya, Skilla.”

  She crossed her arms, her armor clanking. “Xana tells me the angels are still going rogue.”

  “Ah, soze she’s been spying on me?”

  “For certz, you spoon. I didn’t reck you could guv a full city, and it happens I was right to not trust you. I convoed you that if you didn’t put a stop to the rogue angels, I would.”

  “I have it in control,” Zhade said through gritted teeth. “It mereish took some time to skool how to use the Crown—”

  Skilla’s eyes narrowed. “You’re using it now? Am I going to have to put you down, like I tried to put down your brother?”

  “Whoa!” Andra put both her hands up placatingly. “Whoa, whoa. Hold on here. No one is putting anyone down. At least not until someone tells me what the hell is going on.” She turned to Zhade. “Is this true? The angels are killing people?”

  Zhade nodded, tossing a look over his shoulder to where Dzeni was still comforting her friend. “Firm. They . . . I don’t reck, it’s likeish someone is controlling them. They’re evens one tick and then the next they . . .” He let out a heavy sigh. “It’s . . . gruesome.”

  Andra felt a surge of nausea. “Lilibet told me . . . Are the ’bots tearing out people’s hearts?”

  Zhade shook his head. “Mereish Cheska’s. A friend of Dzeni’s and”—he looked back at the woman weeping—“Swan’s promised. The other deaths . . . they’re all different, except . . . It’s . . .”

  “Spit your truth, Zhade,” Skilla barked. “I don’t have the ticks for this.”

  Zhade clenched his jaw. “The angels. They don’t seem to have memory of what they’re doing after, but . . .” He lowered his voice. “But they had memory of Cheska. He . . . The first angel to go rogue . . . Cheska ripped out its heart. And now . . .”

  “They returned the favor,” Andra whispered.

  Her mind whirled. ’Bots turning violent was so far outside of her purview, but in the end . . . it was entirely possible. Since she’d woken, she’d seen for herself ’bots turning against humans, controlled by Maret and his Crown. She hadn’t, however, seen them coordinate in acts of revenge.

  Skilla showed her teeth. “That doesn’t seem like you hold it in control. I’m gathering my army, we’re marching on Eerensed, and we’ll wipe out the angels ourselves.”

  “What army?” Zhade asked. “The militia you’re putting together from refugees who mereish want to be sorcers and farmers and bakers? That army? Firm, I’ve been watching you too. I’m not a fool boyo.”

  Skilla narrowed her eyes. “Are you certz?”

  “Enough,” Andra snapped, trying to keep her voice low, but it was difficult in the open space of the lobby. “We can fight bout this later. Does anyone have a plan for now?”

  “Firm, firm,” Zhade said, gesturing wildly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say. Soon and now my guards are rounding up all the angels acity. They’ll be brought to the palace by the end of the day.”

  “And destroyed?” Skilla asked.

  Zhade let out a slow breath and nodded. “Firm. And destroyed.”

  Skilla watched him for a moment, expression unreadable. “They better be.”

  She gave Zhade one last scowl before storming off. Andra expected Xana to follow, but she was still holding Dehgo, albeit stiffly, her expression conflicted.

  Andra turned to Zhade. “Listen. I’m going to find somewhere for Dzeni and her friend to stay. Give me half a bell, and then can you meet me in my room?”

  Zhade blinked and his cheeks flushed, a twinge of a smile at the corner of his lips.

>   Andra rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop it. We just . . . we need to talk.”

  Zhade took her hand and brought it to his lips, leaving the ghost of a kiss on her knuckles. “My favorite words,” he said, then turned and left.

  * * *

  Andra took Dzeni and Swan to a room she had cleared out for a new lab. There was no furniture yet, but that would be easy to find in the Vaults, and there was enough space for both Dzeni and her son. Lilibet had changed the holo’screens to ocean waves. She had a tendency to do that, as she had never seen an ocean, and until recently, didn’t believe they had ever existed. She stared at them now, her dainty hand floating in the air, trying to match the rhythm of the waves.

  Dzeni helped Swan to a chair, then turned to Xana, dark hair framing her heart-shaped face, Dehgo now cocked on her hip. He tapped his mother on the shoulder and pointed a chubby finger at Xana.

  “I reck her, mam!”

  “Shh.” Dzeni bounced him gently. “Not so loud please.” She looked up at Xana. “You do look familiar. Do we reck you?”

  Xana shifted her weight, strangely fidgety. “I reck Doon. Your boyo’s sister. I purpose, your promised’s sister. The dead one. The promised, not the sister.” She winced. “Sorries, I mereish . . . I didn’t . . .” She shook her head.

  Through the nanos, Andra sensed Xana’s heartrate pick up.

  Dzeni tilted her head. “I . . . I have memory of you from the angel attack in the square. You held Dehgo safe. Then helped me to a meddoc. Sorries, I didn’t reck you at first.” She gestured to Swan. “It happens a day and a half.”

  “Neg . . . evens . . . I full comp . . .” Xana looked away.

  “Thank you, beedub.”

  Xana’s eyes snapped back to Dzeni. She stared at her for a moment, then cleared her throat. “I’ve got to go.”

  She turned quickly and walked past Andra standing in the doorway.

  “Where are you going?” Andra called after her, but she was already halfway down the hall.

  Dzeni set Dehgo on the chair next to Swan and stepped forward. Andra braced herself for the impassioned yelling she’d directed at Zhade earlier, but instead Dzeni threw her arms around her.

  Andra wasn’t one to allow hugs from strangers, but she somehow felt like she knew Dzeni. She’d heard Lew talk about her and had watched her weep for him. Someone Lew loved was surely someone Andra could love too.

  Andra hugged her back. “I’m sorry for everything.”

  Dzeni nodded into Andra’s shoulder. “Me too.”

  Andra pulled back. “What are you sorry for?”

  Dzeni sniffled. “I blamed you. I blamed all of you. I was so angry.”

  “That is nothing to be sorry for. We let you down. Zhade and I both did.”

  “Neg. You didn’t. Sole Zhade.” Despite her sweetness, there was a dangerful glint in her eyes.

  Andra cleared her throat. “Uh . . . you and Dehgo can stay down here. Lilibet, Rashmi, and I live close by. Lilibet, can you find her some furniture?”

  Lilibet turned from the holo’screens. “Firm, firm, firm! I can find it! I love finding things! I can’t move it, though . . .” She thought for a moment. “But Kiv can! He’s so strong! It’s one of the things I like bout him. I like feeling his muscles when we kiss!” Her expression faltered a bit. “Sole, I haven’t seen him in almost a turn, and I’m not full certz where he is. But I’ll find him!”

  “Thanks, Lilibet.” Andra cleared her throat, and Lilibet shot out the door, past Xana, who had returned. She hung just outside the room, arms crossed, staring at Dzeni and frowning.

  Dehgo climbed down off the chair and walked over to Xana.

  “Can I have a jelly tart pleaseandthankyou?” he asked.

  Xana’s eyebrows pinched together as she studied the little boy.

  “Firm,” she said seriously, and then turned and walked out, expecting him to follow, which he did.

  Dzeni smiled to herself, and through the nanos, Andra felt her heart flutter too.

  * * *

  Andra found Zhade waiting outside her room, leaning awkwardly against the frame. He straightened when he saw her, shuffling back and forth.

  “Sorries,” Andra said. “I forgot you wouldn’t be able to get in.”

  “It’s evens,” he said, as Andra pressed her thumb to the scanner and the door slid open. “No shakes. It’s all evens. Evens and odds. Odds and evens.”

  He followed Andra inside, and she turned on the kinetic orbs with a thought. The room was still a mess. Her dirty clothes were strewn across the floor, her work’station littered with discarded tech. The mini’dome sat empty on the conference table.

  “Sorries.” Andra pushed some tablets from one side of the table to the other. “It’s a mess.”

  Zhade shrugged, looking around the room. “You’ve apparentish been busy.”

  Andra nodded. He had no idea. Between discovering Griffin’s clone and Maret waking and upgrading ’implants, Andra’s life had recently been a series of emergencies.

  Zhade really had no idea.

  Andra had kept telling herself that she was keeping this all from Zhade to spare his feelings, but was that truly it? Maybe she was just scared for him to know the truth. That she had kept so many things from him for so long. He already looked at her differently because she was AI. She couldn’t stand him knowing she was dishonest too.

  But didn’t he deserve the truth?

  “Listen, Zhade—”

  “Andra, I miss you.”

  Andra froze, the truth paused on her lips. “What?”

  “I reck . . .” Zhade ruffled the back of his hair. “I reck I have my brother’s face. I reck I did horrible things to you. I betrayed you. I used you. I lied to you. And I reck—believe me, I reck—I don’t deserve you.”

  He started pacing.

  “I reck you can bareish look my direction, and I reck you want nothing to do with me, and I will respect your fishes and wishes. But I want you to reck that I miss you. I miss your laugh and the way you snap at me and the funny things you call me and the way you say my name. I miss the dimple in your cheek and the way your smile slowish spreads and how your hair curls at the ends. I miss your compassion and your humor and your stubbornness and the way you hold me for my faults. Push me to be better. To want to be better. I miss convoing you bout the day, planning coups and running from danger.”

  He stopped pacing, pausing in front of her, with the most heartbreaking combination of earnestness and hope on his face.

  “I will never be able to make up for what I’ve done, but if you give me a chance, I will spend every tick of every day trying. Because I don’t tolerate you, Andra. I don’t hate you less than other people.”

  He took a deep breath and gathered her hands in his.

  “I love you.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  THE CLEAVED

  Zhade hadn’t purposed to say it. Any of it. But especialish that last part. It wasn’t that it wasn’t true. It was mereish that he had planned to convo Andra bout the rogue angels, to convo her bout Tsurina and Meta and the Crown.

  Instead he’d confessed his love for her.

  While wearing his brother’s face.

  After betraying her over and over again.

  Andra stared at him, eyes filling with tears, and pulled her hands out of his. Zhade’s heart plummeted.

  “Andra,” he breathed. “Andra, please say something.”

  He wanted her to scream, to reject him, to tell him to never convo her again. Everything he deserved. Anything would have been better than the silence.

  “I . . .” Andra’s voice cracked. “But I’m . . .”

  “You’re what?”

  “Not . . . human.”

  “Soze?”

  “Soze . . .” Andra started pacing, her fingers running through her hair in a
way that was full bars distracting. “I’m not a person. I’m a thing. It’s . . . gross.”

  Zhade blinked. “Scuze. You’re not a thing and you’re not gross. And us being together is for certz not gross.” He thought bout the last time they’d seen each other. His hands and lips on her skin. Perhaps she wasn’t for true human, but she made him feel more human than he ever had.

  And what she was . . . it wasn’t bad. It was mereish different.

  “Hear,” he said, going to her. He stopped her pacing, intertwining his fingers with hers. “You’re magnificent.”

  There was a flash-tick of something heartbreaking on her expression as she met his eyes. “You just don’t full comp what I am.”

  “I don’t have to in order to reck that you are the most amazing person—being,” he corrected when her lips pursed, “I have ever met.”

  When she didn’t protest, he took both of her hands and gathered them to his chest. She looked up at him under her eyelashes. Her lips were slightish parted.

  “You’re kind,” he said, his voice softening, “brill, funny, stubborn, creative.” He kissed her knuckles. “And absoluteish charred, but that goes without saying. It doesn’t meteor to me that you’re not full true human. I don’t care what you’re not, I care what you are. You’re Andra.”

  A hint of tears appeared in the bottom of Andra’s eyes, and he lifted his hand mereish in time to catch one gentlish with his thumb.

  Zhade grinned. “Now it’s your turn to say nice things bout me.”

  Andra laughed, but before she could say anything, Zhade kissed her.

  It was diff than their last kiss, when it had been two desperate people, uncertz of themselves and each other. Then, it had been frantic and clumsy, as though they’d been afraid that their connection could have been taken away at any moment.

  Anow it was slow and gentle. Zhade’s hands cradled Andra’s face, as Andra’s rested on his chest. There was the slightest bit of pressure, as though her fingers were itching to clench into his shirt.